When writing the storyline for The Vision, I drew on my familiarity with the Smoky Mountain landscape to set the scene. Early in the story, after Asher leaves Washington, he’s spending a morning observing deer in the mountains. Here’s the scene:

> Tracing the high ridge to the east, he could see the golden flecks of dawn beaming like jewels as the first rays peeked over the top of the tree line and glimmered off the leaves. As the moments passed, he watched the shimmering grow in dazzling brilliance. The first penetrating light spilled over the rim. A gentle breeze stirred the new poplar leaves. The hilltop fluttered with dancing sounds and trembling shadows. Asher’s face was towards the light as he worshipped his Creator. “God, Father, how great and mighty is your name.”

This picturesque scene is soon shattered by one of the story’s plots. But I’ve seen countless mornings like this in the Smokies…